“A promise is a promise,” sez she; “I never did break my word yet.”
Well, havin’ made the necessary preliminary moves, we met General Grant by appointment in his own quarters. Before we got inside the lines we had to advance and give the countersign, which wuz Whiskey. Arvilly planted herself right there like a balky mule and said she would die in her tracks before she said it. But I, knowin’ that it wouldn’t make nor break the traffick, sez, “Whiskey,” and I added, “May the Lord destroy it!” Arvilly sez, “Amen!” and we walked in past the astounded sentry with out heads up. (General Grant hadn’t nothin’ to do with that countersign; it wuz some officer’s doin’s.) Well, General Grant seemed quite pleased to see us. He’s a real good-lookin’ man, and if he hadn’t any properties of his own he would be beloved for his pa’s sake, but he has properties of his own. He is a good man and a smart one. Well, the first compliments bein’ passed, I lanched out into my bizness.
Sez I, “Brigadier General Grant, I have come to you on the most important mission any ambassador ever travelled on.”
Sez he, “What sovereign, madam, do you represent, and from what country do you come?” Sez I, “Brigadier General Grant, my mission is from the Lord of Hosts, and the country I come to plead for is your own native land––the United States––the land your own illustrious pa saved with the Lord’s help.”
He wuz deeply affected I see and invited us to set down, consequently we sot. And I sez, plungin’ to once into my bizness as my way is in Jonesville or the Antipathies: “Brigadier General, everybody knows that you are a brave man and a good man.” He thanked me and looked pleased, as well he might from such an enconium from one of the first wimmen of the ages, and I resoomed: “General Grant,” sez I, “are you brave enough and good enough to tackle the worst foe America ever had?”
Sez he, “What foe do you allude to, mam?”
Sez I, “The foe that slays one hundred thousand a year, and causes ten thousand murders every year, steals the vittles and clothes from starvin’ wimmen and children, has its deadly grip on Church and State, and makes our civilization and Christianity a mock and byword amongst them that think.”
“You allude to Intemperance, I presume,” sez he. He’s dretful smart; he knew it in a minute from my description.
“Yes,” sez I, “a foe a million times as dangerous as any your army ever faced, and a million times as hard to chase out of its ambuscade.”